


I'll Be What You Want

by Jackie Madra (GCU_Frictional_Coefficient)



Category: Dreamwalkers - Fandom, The Care and Feeding of Magical Creatures
Genre: BDSM, Dominance & Submission, F/M, Hair-pulling, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Sex, Succubi & Incubi, The Care and Feeding of Magical Creatures - Freeform, Trans Female Character, Transformation, Unexpected Tentacle Monster, Vaginal Fingering, Wish Fulfillment
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-10-05
Packaged: 2019-11-08 21:16:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17988653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GCU_Frictional_Coefficient/pseuds/Jackie%20Madra
Summary: A girl, her lust demon, and a magical journey to the eternal sex dimension.If they ever get out of bed.





	1. What You Fear in the Night

I get home and Sir's waiting.

Of course, I find this out when I've turned around to lock the door and he's silently, suddenly behind me, his body pressing me against the door as I fight to brace myself. He takes his time now that he's got me trapped and trembling, his lips brushing over the nape of my neck as one hand slips down to the hem of my skirt and drags it up with hooked fingers.

My skirt's up and I groan as Sir's fingers push down between my legs; and he  _ growls _ , dark and satisfied before he starts teasing me, rolling fingertips over my clit like raindrops and laughing softly when I can't keep my hips still.

Then there's more fingers and more touching and I can't keep myself from groaning softly, letting my hips work themselves as they press back against him and slowly roll and grind. I can feel him leaning close behind me, and I can feel the pressure of his cock where it's growing hard behind me. 

Knowing I'm getting him turned on is just getting me wetter and his fingers slicker, and of course that's when Sir pulls his hand free of my underwear, and I don't even have time to whimper before he spins me around and pushes me back against the door with a solid thump.

I catch my breath, and that's when I see him.

He's beautiful. A rogue's grin and eyes that burn orange like forge-steel as he watches me struggle against his grip. Devil horns at his temples, broad and swept back to dull points and glistening like sapphires. Blonde hair that looks like it's been left to grow wild, long enough to run my fingers through.

He brings up his other hand, fingers gleaming, and makes a show of licking them clean, never breaking eye contact and all I can think of are those fingers pressed to my lips and I think about what I taste like on his skin and gods it's so fucking  _ hot _ . 

He's watching me with those eyes as he leans in and kisses me with lips that taste of oranges and smell like me, and I don't know how long he's been kissing me before he pulls away, gives me a little peck on the tip of my nose before crouching down before me, roughly pushing my skirt into my hands before dragging my underwear down and.

He leans in. 

And he tastes me.

Hot orange eyes look up at me as his tongue finds my clit and runs teasing circles around it until my hips betray me, squirming with every flick and glide of his tongue. He nods in approval as a trembly little moan escapes my lips, and then he's burying his face between my legs, my breath hissing out as I feel all of his mouth pressed against me, hot and slick and  _ hungry _ .

I close my eyes and I feel his mouth working, sweeps of pressure and rapid little flicks and movements that I don't have the right headspace to think about other than my body insisting they're so,  _ so _ , good. And then I cry out as his tongue slips  _ inside _ and I'm sliding over the edge, arching my back against the door as sparks of ecstasy start to unfurl into something more-

-and then everything shifts as I wake up in my bed, back arched and looking up at my bedroom ceiling, his head between my thighs and his mouth, warm and slick and  _ pulling _ at me with sweet twinges promising something more — and that's when I gasp and buck and push my hips against him as I come.

He doesn't stop.

He's taken my measure, found my rhythm, and now he's coaxing - no,  _ spurring _ me forward, hands cradling my hips as I feel that slippery-slick knot inside me draw liquid-tight and I know, without a doubt, that he's going to feast on me until I come screaming.

I'm terrified. I've never lost control like this; every orgasm I can remember has been something to choke off and stifle.

He’s gentle. Merciless. He  _ wants _ me to lose control. He's pulled aside everything I've used to cover myself, found this naked cowering thing at the heart of me, and made it his. He's saying 'I want' and I'm saying 'I'm scared' and he's saying 'I know' and  _ taking me anyway. _

And as he takes me with his hands and his mouth and the weight of his regard, one thought rises within me:

_ He wants me? He has me.  _

That thought barely forms before everything in me and of me clenches tight, fingers curling in bedsheets, heels drumming hard enough to bruise his back, breath bursting out in ragged gasps as every ounce of that tension  _ ignites  _ like loose flour set to an open flame.

The neighbors hear me.

_ I don't care. _

  
  


~~~

_ The long-voyaged boat _

_ Finds her harbor _

_ Cargo unloaded, ashes hauled _

_ She sits high in the water _

~~~

_ I don't work anymore. _

The bed shifts as he climbs up next to me.

_ He ran me hot- _

His hands coax my fingers out of their deathgrip on twisted sheets.

_ -and I fell apart- _

He nestles in against me, his arm pulling me close until I can feel his warmth across my shoulder blades.

_ -and I don't know how  _ anything's _ ever going to work again. _

I don't know how long we're there like that, feeling his chest move and the rush of warmth into my hair whenever he exhales. He smells like oranges, sweet like the fruit and sour like the peel; he's all around me and for just right now, he is my world.

And finally,  _ finally _ , things feel like they might fit together again.

~~~

In a small voice, I whisper "...holy  _ fuck _ ."

His arm tightens around me, pulling me firmly against him. A good,  _ firm _ hug, his breath warm as he murmurs something into my hair.

I squeak a little as he squeezes me, shivering as I feel the heat of his breath run over my scalp, and I gasp a supremely verbose "...unh?"

Then I squeak again- no, a yelp this time, as his arm tightens again and then  _ he _ starts to move and then  _ I _ start to move as he turns me over and before I know it we're face to face and he's  _ kissing _ me and the only thing I can hold in my head is how it feels like the first sweat you work up after a shower, fresh and clean and effortless.

And afterward, as we're lying there nose to nose, he repeats what he said before.  "Thank you." His voice is quiet, intimate, pitched just for me to hear.

I look into his eyes and there's… love. Pride. Relief. There's  _ joy _ kindling down in there, like he's found the thing that will make the rest of his life worth it.

All I can do is flinch and look away guiltily, because when he looks into my eyes, all he's going to find is a silent apology when there's no way I could be that for someone like him.

He reaches out, warm fingers finding my chin and gently turning my face back towards his-

-and when our eyes meet again, he smiles at me, sweet and soft. I duck my head down into his shoulder, closing my eyes as I feel them start to sting. I can't look at him; it's too painful -- too  _ shameful _ , seeing how he looks at me, the thing he thinks he's found in me.

I can still feel his arm around me, the rumbling purr of his voice as he holds me and tries to soothe me.

_ It's all right, _ I can feel him say, and it's like each word is a hammer-blow blindly struck against against the wall standing between him and the idea that I'm not worth any of this.

_ I love you.  _

_ No matter what. _

_ You're mine. _

_...and I'm yours, _ I think, and the last of the wall is gone and that trembling taut pain in me relaxes and I'm sobbing against him, teeth bared in the unconscious smile of the distraught.

He tightens his embrace, presses his lips to my forehead in a gentle kiss. Not shielding me from the hurt I'm feeling, but there with me through the feeling of it.

_ I'm yours, I'm yours, I'm yours. _ I let the words run through my head, over and over again as the tears begin to ebb.

"I know." He says the words and I shiver when I realize I've put words to my thoughts.

His fingers glide through my hair, working deeper and pressing against my scalp as I lean into his touch. "I know. It'll be all right."

I breathe out and it's this trembling shuddering sound, like there's a fist clenched inside me that doesn't want to let go.

"I'm yours."

"You're mine." I can hear the teeth in his smile, and I inhale, shivering. And then  _ exhale _ as his fingers find that tense spot right behind my ear and rub.

It sounds nothing like a moan. Honest.

I know I could move, tilt my head back and  _ stretch _ until my lips find his jawline-

-no, somehow I'm already halfway there with no memory of the movement between, stretching higher and searching for his lips with mine, looking for  _ more; _ my hands pressed flat to his chest, where I can feel the warmth of his skin and the movement of his ribs as he breathes.

_ If I kiss him, I'm lost. _

The certainty roars through my head, a cataract blinding me to everything save what it would feel like to just  _ dive in _ .

So I do. 

I give myself over to the nameless pressure inside me and surge up to press my lips against him, tasting his scent on his skin and the corners of his mouth, feeling the burn of tears in my nose as I pull away to draw breath.

He's looking right back at me with shimmering rainfall-in-forgelight tears in his own eyes, that little smile of relief still there as he asks "You okay?"

I hiccup a sickly little laugh and shake my head, trying to blink back the tears. Because... god, I've fallen into someone's arms and they make me feel safe and they make me feel loved and  _ I've never met them before today. _

His hands come up to cradle my face, thumbs swiping under my eyes. "What do you need?"

I sniffle and press myself against his hands, but all that comes it is a scornful little laugh, because I haven't a  _ godsdamned clue _ what I want out of this _. _

He flinches just a little as I laugh, and I close my eyes, feeling him lean in until his forehead touches mine.

I don't know how long we're like that before I finally whisper "...what do you  _ want? _ " 

His thumbs brush over my cheekbones and I fight back a shiver.

"I want to protect you." He lifts his head and kisses me, right between my eyebrows.

"I want you to be safe." Another kiss.

"I want you to  _ feel _ safe." He kisses me again and I feel tears spring back into my eyes.

"I want to see all of you." His hands lift my face to his and he kisses the tears off my face.

"And I want to have all the time in the world to do so."

His lips find mine and my eyes close, sending fresh tears down my cheeks.

I let myself sink into his kiss again, finding his lips and his tongue and that sharp, tart taste of citrus that stays with me as I draw back. "Okay," I whisper, lips brushing against his.

"You want me to, to feel safe?"

I hear a soft sound of assent, feeling his head move as he nods ever-so-slightly before I draw in a breath and try to focus.

"I have- n-no, I  _ want _ some answers."

He nods again. "Anything," he murmurs.

I let out the breath I didn't know I was holding, open my eyes, and  _ ask _ before I have a sense of all the words.

"What  _ are _ you? I dreamed of you, but I'm awake and-and I can  _ touch _ you and you're  _ real- _ "

I cut myself off, unable to ignore the feeling that I've dug myself into a hole as he looks through me, his face unreadable.

_ Fuck. Fuck! What was I thinking, asking like a dick- _ "I- that was impolite, I'm sorr-"

"It's a good question." His eyes refocus on me and he smiles lopsidedly. "And a hard one to ask."

My cheeks feel hot, and his smile widens. "It's all right. I know you didn't mean it a-purpose."

"Now you're just being  _ nice _ ."

"I'm being kind." He looks... wistful, confused. "Which is most of what I know how to be."

"Most?"

His smile takes an edge. "The rest is being cruel to be kind."

Shiver a little at that punch of  _ want _ down low in my gut at his words. 

His smile.

_ Fuck. _

  
  


He chuckles softly as he feels the shiver in my legs. "Not yet." His hand slides down my waist, fingertips stretching across my hip and I reluctantly stop. "After all, you did ask a question, didn't you? What I was?"

"...yeah," I murmur. Trying to ignore that pulsing throb of need that wants me to grind against him  _ because he told me not to. _ "Asked what you were."

There's a pause that feels like forever.

"I remember. I remember... being part of you, in here." Two fingertips press to my breastbone in gentle emphasis.

"I remember being with you in fantasies and daydreams, through nights in your bed and long car drives. I'm with you, right here, and I can feel desire beating inside you like a second heart."

His fingers slide down between my thighs, touching me and I'm suddenly, embarrassingly aware of how wet I am.

"It's like sitting by the hearth on a winter day." 

I can feel his touch, tracing, teasing, and I breathe out, closing my eyes.

"And I want to keep you warm for as long as you'll have me."

My lips quirk into a half-smile. "Quite a while, I-"

Slick fingertips trace over a sensitive spot and I groan.

"Ohgods. Do you have a name to go with those fingers?"

A soft laugh. "Sunny."

"'m Jess," I say softly, legs shifting to open myself a little more for him.

His hands coax my hips to start rocking again. "You know... you could call me 'sir' like you've been wanting to since we first met."

"If I call you sir-" My hand slips between his legs, finding velvety skin and hardness lying underneath  "-what do you call me?"

He lets out a breath that turns into a quiet laugh, pulling me closer. "Let's say... I'm open to suggestions."  
  



	2. In the Day Comes to Call

Warmth. Comfort. Soft darkness behind my eyelids until they flicker open and I blearily consider the wall by my bed.

Move and wince and stretch, breathing in oranges and musk, curling my toes, sighing and hearing it come out as a soft coo. And I smile.

I just felt _good_ , like when I've had one of those rare sleeps that didn't just subtract fatigue, but left me with potential fizzing in my bones.

After everything that had happened last night, I wasn't even sore-

Last night. Him. His hands, his mouth. Smiling as he held me, feeling his voice rumble in his chest.

_Sunny_.

That's when I hear clattering of plates from the kitchen and I bolt upright as I try to figure out whether someone's in my apartment and _why does it smell like waffles?_

And then he comes through the bedroom door, mug in one hand, plate in the other and I completely forget about those because all I can see is that he's smiling and _joyously_ naked.

"Oh my god."

He grins at me, proud and triumphant and delighted and I'm so glad I closed the blinds before I went to bed because _I am not sharing this with anyone_.

I take the mug, carefully cradling it in my hands and breathing in the scent. "I thought I was out of peach oolong."

The bed creaks and settles as he sits on the edge. "You are now."

I look back up at him. Into those happy-pleased hot-coal eyes. "I thought I was - it was a dream."

He's pleased/happy. "The tea, the waffles, and I are all quite real, love."

I feel my face warm as something does a queasy lovely dolphin backflip in my chest when he calls me that.

"Drink your tea— it's better hot."

I unthinkingly raise it to my lips, but pause when I can feel the heat on my lips and I lower the mug. "It's... it's still a little too hot. For me, I mean."

I move to put the mug on the bedside table, but he intercepts me, takes the mug, sips without swallowing, then puts the mug down as he beckons me closer.

So I lean in, looking into those coalfire eyes, tasting peach on his lips as I kiss him-

-and I almost jerk back, _almost,_ as scalding-hot tea floods into my mouth.

It burns, but it doesn't; I can taste peach and tannins and that rough citrus taste I've already come to associate with _him_ , catalyzing into something that makes my salivary glands ache with inadequacy.

It's drinking hot cider in winter, spiced and sweet. It's the kind of drink that demands a thermos and a sleigh ride.

I swallow and feel it sear my throat before I can spill, rocking back, sweating, panting for breath as my heart races and my mouth... 

...and I'm fine. Tongue unburned. Throat clear.

"Holy, h-holy _fuck._ "

He touches my shoulder; I look up and he's smiling at me, the expression gentle and somehow proud.

"Good _girl_ ," is all he says, and I feel my face burn in a way that is _distinctly_ tea-unlike, closing my eyes as I try to get my breathing somewhere closer to normal.

His hand traces over my collarbone, cups my cheek as he leans in to kiss me.

"You okay?" he murmurs just before his lips touch mine, and I nod into his hand, my head still whirling at the impossibility of what just happened— gods, he's a good kisser.

He picks up the mug again and looks into my eyes. "More?"

I press my cheek into his hand, shaking my head slowly as I look up at him, then at the mug. My cheeks warm and I look away in embarrassment. "I-I think I'd like a waffle now. Please."

His lips touch my forehead as he sets the mug down on my nightstand. "Close your eyes."

I close my eyes, open my mouth, and I taste tartness and sticky sweetness. I take a bite of crisp waffle with raspberry ...jam?

It's all gone and I'm licking the taste of jam off his fingers before I realize it and I pull back, cheeks burning.

"I, I uh-" I fumble for something to say besides _your fingers taste nice._ "Where'd you get the jam?"

"Defrosted some raspberries and mixed them with that jar of honey you have."

He grins at my expression. "What, you thought I went out to pick some up?"

I... blink. And then start to giggle helplessly at the thought of him. Wandering my neighborhood. Searching for _preserves_.

"What?" 

I shake my head, trying to suppress a laugh. "We should probably get some pants on you before you go out."

"Mmm." He smiles at me. "Like I'm letting you out of my sight."

Sunny feeds me more waffle, interspersed with sips of tea that leaves me reeling into his arms, red-faced and shivering.

"H-hey." I touch his wrist, trying to redirect a waffle towards his face. "You should eat, too?"

He winks at me. "I do not eat... vaffles," he declares in mock-solemnity, abandoning his faux-Romanian accent as I start to laugh and he grins.

"What do you eat, then?"

His grin is lopsided, his eyes burning with soft desire. "You." 

I remember last night and his mouth and his tongue and _squirm_ as his smile widens knowingly. "You're cute when you get embarrassed." 

God. He doesn't need a kitchen to heat waffles; with the way my cheeks are burning, he could just as easily use _my face_.

"There's this... warmth that comes off you." He speaks slowly, considering each word. "When I'm holding you, when you look at me." He pauses. "When you're licking jam off my fingers."

Oh. _Oh._

"It's... I can feel you _want_ me. And it feels good. Like there's strength pouring into me."

"So..." I say, hesitant. Feeling that nudge of desire that hasn't gone away since I woke up. "I can still feed you. Just not waffles."

He looks at me questioningly, so I lean into him and close my eyes and _fantasize_ about him and his hands and the things we did last night and this morning and let my imagination run wild about the things we _might_ do, whether he'd like me on my knees and bare as I worship him, eyes closed so I can focus on how he feels and smells and tastes, pushed up against the wall and feel his fingers-

He strokes my hair with a trembling hand, whispering _"good girl,"_ and I shudder as the words hit me down low like the sweetest sucker punch ever.

My lips find his for a spare breath of a second before I lean into his chest, trying to push him back onto the bed. He doesn't move, and I look up at him and pout and _whine_ with need until he smiles and lets me push him down.

I almost crawl up on him, ready to straddle him and lean in and press my body and lips to his-

-but then I breathe in, inhaling orange-cinnamon-vanilla and something that's indescribably _musk_ and impossibly _good_ . I breathe out, and it comes out as this long, shuddering, almost _animal_ moan.

The scent, my _want_ , leads me down his hips. His fingers tighten in my hair and he calls me _good_ and it makes me shiver and frisson and breathe in and groan at how impossibly good he smells with my nose pressed to his skin right by his swelling cock.

At first it's all I can do to lie there and just breathe, cheek brushing against the velvety softness of his cock.

But my clit is the peak of an iceberg, and someone's chiseling away below the waterline with little tick-tick-tick-tick hammerstrikes timed to my heartbeat.

I breathe out a sigh, nosing around his cock as it thickens and swells, using my lips to kiss and suck and tease. And then I finally open them, mouth flooding with saliva as I taste him fresh and wet and sour and still sweet.

I look up to find hot orange eyes intent on me, burning with hunger. My gaze meets his, and then I close my eyes and push my lips down around him, taking him deeper in my mouth and feeling his hips jerk _because he wants me_. 

A whimper escapes my throat, muffled by his cock, and I feel myself shudder around him. _He wants me_ . And I'm doing what he wants and being _good_ for him.

The minutes I spend worshiping him are timeless, and there's nothing there besides the feel of him on my lips and the taste of him on my tongue like oranges in salt air. Drawing breath and diving back in, _glorying_ in how he jerks and groans and cums-

-and the taste of him in my mouth, like ambrosia and theobroma all at once, the feel of it like molten glass spilling into cool water, campfire sparks darting into the night sky.

Swallow? Of course you swallow when it tastes like this, drinking his godsfood and  feeling that molten glass fusing to the dark places inside me, leaving me hot and flushed and somehow strangely _more_ and _complete_ and _full_.

His fingers tangle in my hair and firmly _pull_ , and it's like everything floods out of my head; arms and legs pulling me up his body as he puppets me into a kiss, tasting himself on my lips and growling as his tongue thrusts into my mouth.

"My turn," he husks, and then I'm on my back as his mouth finds the hollow of my throat and traces downward. 

Then it's my turn to tangle fingers in his hair as his mouth finds a nipple and suckles as I groan in delight, then yelp as his teeth nip me for the barest second before— before he's down between my legs, mouth pulling on my clit as I arch my back, squealing.

His tongue is... I can't figure it out until I slide a hand down between my legs, finding slick lips and his tongue darting, _thrusting_ between my fingers as he tastes my _cunt_.

It hits me like a gut-punch down in my hips, and I hear a throaty "Oh, _fuck_ ," come from my lips as my thighs clench because _gods I have a_ cunt _now._

Feeling his tongue inside me and _inside_ me the way I've only dreamed, filling and flexing more than fingers could; I'm a tight ball of need, aching potential whimpering " _oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck_ " over and over as he's in me, as I curl and tense and shudder and finally, unexpectedly, orgasm surges through me in waves.

  
  



	3. And We All Get Burned

Sunny's strong fingers brush over my flanks in slow strokes, untangling tensed limbs with deceptively gentle force until he can lie down with me and hold me close. His body is firm and smooth and warm and I'm slowly writhing against him without realizing it, the feeling of my skin on his like relaxing into hot sand before your body remembers to sweat.

My hand slips between my legs, fingers covering myself before  _ his _ hand covers mine. Holding my hand. Holding my cunt. Holding me, wet and aching and wanting  _ him _ .

I can feel him breathe, warm and strong and  _ tingling _ on my skin somehow as I breathe along with him, feeling my pulse roar in my ears and surge between my legs before it slows.

He kisses me right between my eyebrows, and I open my eyes to see him, smiling with relief even while he watches me, care and concern reflected in his eyes.

I smile wanly and lean into his heat, soaking in it, rubbing my face against his chest.

"Jess. Jess?"

I can feel his voice hum through his chest, and I make a creaky little sound that's almost quintessential happy-cat-noise as I graze a cheekbone against one of his pectorals.

"I think you need to see this."

"Mehhnh." It's a petulant little sound of 'dun wanna'. It's the sound you make when you've just had the best sex of your life and you just want to be held in strong post-coital arms until round two decides to happen.

"Jess." The tone of his voice reminds me of far-off thunder - not quite a dom voice, but it stirs me back to myself, grounds me enough to look at him with clearer eyes.

"Come and see." He helps me get off the bed, guiding me to the wall with the full-length mirror.

I look in the mirror, and I can't turn away.

The girl there has a chest that doesn't feel like a half-grown afterthought and hips  _ oh gods I have hips _ and a waistline just begging to be held in Sunny's hands.

And she's smiling, a gentle curve to her lips that's never known the weight of nerve damage or the sullen downturn that's been part of my face for  _ years _ .

She looks fresh and clean and joyful in a way that hasn't been seen since the world was new.

Our eyes meet and she tells me two truths.

_ You are beautiful. _

I can't see her through the tears, fist pressed to my lips to keep from crying out loud.

_ You are  _ **_whole._ **

And then Sunny's there to catch me as I go weak-kneed, holding me against him, pulling me away from the mirror and down to the floor as I cry helplessly.

His arms wrap around me, a hand on my back and one stroking my hair as wet trickles down my cheeks and traces over his skin.

"I... I..." I sniffle a long drag of air and mucus. "I don't- how?"

Sunny doesn't say anything for a moment.

"So... I think my cum might be magic," he finally says.

I can't help it; I start to laugh in great hiccuping bursts, because  _ of course _ . Of course, my magic boyfriend who  _ came out of my dreams _ has  _ magic cum _ .

"M-my warranty-" I cut myself off as my diaphragm spasms. "Sunny, my warranty doesn't cover  _ aftermarket additions- _ " 

I'm giggling, bubbly and uncontrollable in his embrace like a soda that's been shaken to near-hysteria.

"But how does it- Sunny, it made me look like  _ me." _

His arms tighten around me, holding me close to his warmth. "Maybe this is the shape your soul takes."

_ This is the shape my soul takes, _ I repeat to myself like a mantra. T _ his is the shape my soul takes. _

The girl I saw in the mirror smiles at me from my mind's eye.  _ This is the shape my soul takes. _

_ You are beautiful. _

_ You are whole. _

I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding, letting it come out in a long  _ whoosh _ and fold my arm over his, closing my eyes.

"It's... I'm okay."

I don't know how long we sit there in front of the mirror, but Sunny seems content to let me spoon in his lap and protect me from the cold floor.

I shift in his arms after a bit and cough a little laugh. "So... "

"So." He whispers in my ear, and I shiver as his voice sends sparks down my neck.

"...what do you think? Of my... soul."

He doesn't say anything at first, and when I start to ask again, his fingers press to my lips, enforcing my silence.

"It's your soul. It's  _ you _ ," he says. Kisses my ear. "But you need to understand something."

He kisses my ear again— not a light peck like before, but more intimate, lips nibbling at the outer curve before his mouth pulls at my earlobe and makes me gasp.

"You are  _ mine _ ," he whispers, kissing my neck, then setting his teeth and slowly applying pressure until I squeak in  _ it hurts but I'm too turned on to get you to stop _ , squirming in his grasp.

He pulls away from my neck, arms still holding me tight, hands around my wrists.

"And I'm yours," he murmurs, relaxing his grasp just enough to let me squirm and be a hot little mess in his lap.

"With that said..." and I can hear the smile in his voice as the tip of his index finger pushes between my lips and teeth and he feels my eager tongue. "I expect we'll get along  _ just fine. _ " 

His skin tastes faintly of oranges and darkness, citrus and spices I can't name, slowly fading to a whisper of vanilla whenever my tongue pulls away.

And his fingers smell like me still, something I can only describe as  _ musk _ that I just can't get tired of.

Tasting him over and over again, tongue finding him just as my thoughts do, thinking about how he tastes and feels in my mouth, how he tasted and felt when I was between his legs, letting those thoughts swirl and mix like oil-shimmer on water.

His hand palms across my chest, fingertips grazing the feather-soft underside of a breast and my lips and cheeks and tongue  _ pull _ on him.

I feel him stir behind me, feel his hips shift and heat and realize he's getting hard just as he husks "That's a  _ good girl, _ " and I can feel things clench down in my hips. Gods, I want him  _ in me _ and I don't care if it's tongue or fingers or cock.

And I tell him how I want him  _ now _ around his finger and I think he gets what I'm saying, because his hand pulls out of my mouth with a wet  _ pop _ and his arms go under me.

He pitches me onto the bed from high enough to watch me bounce with a smile, and I'm watching his cock bob as he starts to climb on.

"I-" I swallow, stunned to muteness as he looks at me with burning, hungry eyes. "...I want to be on top," I finally say, plaintive. Not whining, not  _ that _ needy yet.

He looks at me just long enough that a very excited part of me starts to hope that he'll just say  _ fuck it _ and mount me like a taxidermist, but he finishes getting on the bed and rolls on his back.

I climb up between his legs, finding his cock with my tongue and tasting the bead of spark-sting that's already formed at his tip, letting it brush across my belly and—

—and I'm on top of him, the length of his cock trapped between his hips and the folds of my cunt spread across his girth. I stare down at him, breathing hard, cheeks flushed, and his eyes meet mine, still hungry. His hands tense on my thighs and I  _ smile _ as I lift my hips and the head of his cock springs up and I come back down and he's  _ inside me _ .

Feeling myself around him, unexpected muscles tensing around him and feeling him swell in response, feel his hips shift underneath and that motion shifting him against me and the breath catches in my throat

I could have sat there for hours, just feeling him— but my body  _ wants _ , and my body and cunt tense as I slowly lever myself up and then collapse back down on him before going more than an inch as I feel him shift inside me and it's  _ so good _ .

Dogged persistence in the face of mind-emptying pleasure pays off, and my body finds a rhythm on top of his, feeling the pull and push of his cock as I lift and sink atop him.

And just— the  _ feeling _ . Having that strength, that power, the kind of thing that makes you melt… and getting astride it, steering it, feeling the heat and power underneath you as you ride?

I think I’m starting to get why people dig motorcycles.

It isn't long before my hips go watery and I have to brace myself with my hands on his chest, rocking back and forth, pressing my clit into the base of his hips and feeling him stir inside me until I shudder and gasp as I feel how I  _ squeeze _ around him. A breathy little laugh escapes me as I look down at Sunny and mirror his smile.

"I love watching you come," he murmurs, fingertips tracing over my sweaty skin and making me shiver. "You just get so... quiet and focused for a moment, like you're listening to a song you can barely hear and trying to make out the words."

The redness of my face has nothing to do with how he's cupped one of my breasts in a warm hand and has the pad of his thumb slowly working over the nipple, sending little twinges through already-primed nerves. He looks up at me, and his smile widens.

"My turn," is all he says, hands slipping onto my hips and  _ gripping _ me so tightly I hiss and squirm, hands on top of his in a futile attempt to ease his grasp.

And then he  _ moves _ me. Lifts my hips a little and brings them back down so I'm sliding on his cock, and the breath catches in my throat. His smile's shifted, becoming proprietary, predatory.

My legs are jelly after my previous exertions, and it's all I can do to grab onto his wrists and hold on as he grinds my hips into his, my clit stuttering sparks that make me spasm around his cock.

"Oh,  _ fuck _ ." The words almost fall out of me as I realize he's  _ using _ me, that I'm just  _ something to fuck _ . Just the thought of it makes me shudder, fingers clutching at his wrists as my cunt flutter-clenches in little spasms.

Sunny's breathing harder, a rasp to it that's almost like a growl, stirring me on his cock until I helplessly whine something that might have been his name and he just whispers " _ Mine _ ," as he tilts his hips and uses his hands to guide me forward and down onto his chest.

I close my eyes and just lose myself in his smell and the feel of his muscles as he uses me for his pleasure, each thrust of his cock and answering pulse of my core reinforcing that  _ I'm his _ .

I'm liquid in the chalice of his hands; he rocks me, and my waves crash and thunder against his self-control, coming faster and faster as he sets a faster pace and  _ thrusts _ .

_ He's so hard, _ I think, along with  _ I'm so wet _ and  _ Gods I'm going to cum _ and  _ God  _ he's  _ going to cum _ and all I can do is lie on top of him, hands fluttering like little wings as I whine with helpless  _ need _ .

And then Sunny brings me down one final time, hilting himself in me as breath hisses through his teeth and his fingers tighten their grip until I'm sure I'll bruise—

—and then I'm the night sky, cool and dark and full of stars, and he's a burning prominence inside me, seeding me with blazing light that burns like cometary ice and sunfire.

~~~

We spent the next couple of hours in bed, inventing games of hand and mouth and skin. I found out how long he could hold his breath; he found a whole bunch of ways to make me squirm and whimper and  _ beg _ for him.

I lay there, sandwiched between his chest and his arm, nuzzling the hollow of his collarbone. 

"I don't think I've cum like that in... well, forever." I stretch up to kiss his ear. He doesn't respond.

"Sunny?"

After a long moment, he finally speaks; his voice is tense, worried.

"It feels like the world doesn't want me here."


	4. The World Begins to Disappear

_ It feels like the world doesn't want me here. _

I prop myself up on one arm, staring down at him. "What? What do you mean, 'it doesn't want you here'?"

He looks up at me, wetting chapped lips.

"It's- it's like there's something wrong with the air. It smells like sterile death and it  _ burns, _ like- like ammonia and vomit."

I look down at him, worried. "And you didn't feel like that was  _ important enough _ to mention during the past two days?"

He manages a sly smirk, eyes twinkling. "In my defense, you can be  _ very _ distracting."

"You're incorrigible."

"You mean  _ encourageable _ ."

"No, I... ugh." I prod his nose with an index finger, pulling it back when he tries to snap at it with his teeth. "Sunny, if the world's, I dunno,  _ rejecting _ you, that's  _ serious- _ "

"We could have sex," he offers, trying to sound helpful. "I'm pretty sure all the sex was helping."

I close my eyes. "You're kidding— gods, you're my  _ magic cum boyfriend _ , of course fucking gives you, uh, enough chutzpah to maintain a foothold here."

He shrugs. "I don't know about chutzpah, but the smell of sex... blocks out the bad stuff."

"But. But that's... medieval. That's  _ miasma theory _ , that's—" I cut myself off as he gives me a Look.

"Are you going to trust rationalism and the scientific method, or are you going to listen to the guy who can make you into a delicious wet mess?"

I stare at him, at his gorgeous face and those kissable lips that  _ make no sense _ . 

"M-making me into a-a-" I power through the words as I feel myself blush and some heat enters my voice. "-a 'delicious wet mess' isn't a valid rhetorical tactic—"

His hand slides up my back, fingers twining in my hair as he  _ pulls _ , gentle but firm—

And it's like the words just drop out of my head as my eyes close and I let out a breathy gasp, fingers knotting in the bedsheets.

"I think you'll find that it is." His voice is soft, but there's that firmness underneath, hidden steel wrapped in his words. "Now, you're going to listen to me. I can feel this and you can't, and  _ that makes me the expert here. _ Understand?"

I try to nod, wincing as the motion tugs on my scalp.

"Jess?"

"Y-yes," I husk, patting at his bicep in the universal gesture of  _ you-can-let-go-now _ .

He doesn't. "Yes, what?" he inquires mildly, fingers curling tighter in my hair.

"Yessss..." I hiss, grabbing his arm and squeezing to no avail. "Sunny..."

"Yes,  _ sir _ ," he dictates, still sounding like we're discussing the weather.

"Yes _ sir _ ," I wheeze, and his fingers loosen in my hair just in time for me to collapse onto his chest, trying not to hyperventilate.

His fingertips find my scalp, massaging in slow little circles, and I sigh. "Fuck..."

"Shh," he murmurs, the steel gone from his voice. "That's a good girl."

I shiver at his words, realizing along the way that I've turned into a hot little mess. Again.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" He lifts his head to kiss my brow, waiting patiently as I piece together words in my spinning head.

"No... I mean, it hurt, but..." I squirm against him, uncomfortable with the admission I'm about to make. "...not like a  _ bad _ hurt?"

"A good hurt, then."

"...you can't prove that," I mumble into his chest, and he laughs softly.

"That's not what your cunt says."

_ Fuck _ .

He pushes on my shoulder, rolling me off him and onto my back, and then he kisses me with dry, rough lips that taste faintly of oranges as a hand slides down my belly, down between my legs, feeling how wet I am—

And then he pulls away, smiling down at me as he brings his fingers to his lips, orange-fire eyes slitting like a cat's as he tastes me on his skin.

The look on his face is... it's like watching an Antarctic explorer finding a candy bar at the bottom of his rucksack. I watch him pull each finger free of his pursed lips, like he's trying to get every last taste of me off of them...

...and with a hot little gut-clench, I think:  _ Is that what I look like when I'm tasting  _ him _? _

"Sunny?" I whisper quietly; too quietly, as he gives no sign that he's heard me.

"S-sir?" It's less of a whisper, more of a soft whine, and he opens his eyes, hungry embers looking down at me.

"Please? Please taste me?"

He watches me, that hungry look still on his face; I open my mouth, ready to beg as he smirks and slides down my body, soft lips brushing over my navel before he finds his place between my thighs.

I whine softly as his tongue finds me, slips inside, my legs trembling around his shoulders as his hands slide under my ass.

He tastes— no, he  _ drinks _ me, lapping at me like I'm cream in a chalice with businesslike flicks of his tongue. It's almost mechanical how his tongue penetrates and swirls and withdraws without pausing for breath; just the pulse and curl of his tongue inside me, slowly stoking a fire that I'd thought banked.

"Sunny," I groan, reaching down to rake my fingers through his shaggy blonde hair, to take hold of his horns and try to pull him against me. "Sunny,  _ fuck _ -"

It's over before I'm ready; Sunny lifts himself to his knees, wiping at his gleaming chin and licking his hand clean. He looks  _ better _ , a flush to his face that I hadn't realized was missing, a sharp light in his eyes as he looks down at me and thinks and finally speaks.

"I know what we need to do."

I stare at him as his words wash around me and arousal washes through me, feeling the ache of my pulse and something slowly unwinding inside me, tension left unfulfilled.

"Ah." He smiles. "Not in a listening mood, are we?"

He takes one of my hands, bringing it to feel velvety skin and a shaft hardening in my grip, and then he pulls it free and I groan with relief as he slides into me, the taste of his lips and his saliva and the smell of my cunt rekindling my fire as I feel him thrust once, then again, and again.

~~~

We're spooned together in my bed; I can feel his warmth all across my back, one of his hands on my belly pulling me back into him. Cum heats me from the inside, him from the outside. Comfortable. Sated.

For now.

My hand covers his, fingertips tracing over his knuckles. "Feeling better?"

He laughs, kissing my hair. "You noticed?"

"Yeah. I didn't notice it until after you went down on me, but... yeah, something's doing a number on you."

"At least there's a counter to it."

"Ah, yes," I say, stifling a laugh. "My cunt, the devil's chapstick."

He snorts, amused. "I don't know if you remember, but I said something earlier?"

I have to bite my lip as I grin. "Before or after you got your dick in me?"

His hips tense, and there's a smile in his voice. "Oh,  _ before _ , you needy little thing."

The breath hisses out of me. I don't know how he does it, but I swear he could call me  _ anything _ in that voice and I'd think it was hot. Like, James-Spader-and-Kate-Mulgrew-team-up-to-read-an-accounting-textbook hot.

"I'll tell you again," he continues, "but you have to promise to listen. Can you do that for me?"

I breathe in. Out. In again.

"...if you stop using the sexy voice."

"This is my normal voice," he says, still using his sexy voice. Bastard.

I twist and turn under his arm until I'm facing him, aware of the heat of his palm on the small of my back as he watches me with sober eyes.

"...you don't have to  _ talk dirty _ ," I say, wincing a little at how whiny it sounds. "Like, calling me a 'needy little thing', or 'pet' or 'mine' or..." I huff a sigh. "You get what I mean. Just- look, I want to pay attention and it's  _ hard _ when you're distracting me."

He uses a finger to hook a strand of hair back behind my ear. "I can do that, Jess."

_ Fuck. _ I close my eyes and let my head thump against his chest. "...close enough. Just... say what you're going to say."

Fingers start to gently comb through my hair, and it's only after I relax that he starts talking.

"Tasting you." He stops for a second, fingers splaying across my stomach. "... _ drinking  _ you, it cleared up my head. Things are making more sense, now."

I rest against him, feeling the rumble of his voice in his chest even as I listen to his words.

"I was thinking of safety, of relief from the air that feels like it's killing me by inches. And I found myself thinking of the taste of salt and the smell of life and water."

"If I want to be safe, I have to go to the sea." He touched my cheek. "And I want you to come with me."

~~~

Water pattered crisply against my hair as I stood in the shower.

_ "But how do you know? What makes the sea safe?" _

_ "I just  _ do _. Call it... I don't know, faith?" _

I was showering alone; partly because showering with Sunny was the opposite of getting clean, but also because I needed some breathing room to think.

_ I want you to come with me. _

It seemed so simple when he'd said it, and there was more than one part of me that had surged forward with a silent  _ Yes! _ at his invitation.

But now that I was alone with my thoughts... I had a life here. I mean, it wasn't a great life, but I had friends, a monthly D&D game, a neighborhood cat who tolerated my presence. 

I mean, when you summed it up that way, it seemed pretty insignificant as far as a life went, but it was  _ mine _ .

Was I really willing to give all that up, for something Sunny  _ believed _ was true?

_ I don't have to decide  _ now _ ,  _  I thought.  _ Just get Sunny to the sea and I can make a choice then. _

~~~

I pushed Sunny in the direction of the bathroom, making sure my towel didn't slip. "Your turn."

The door to the bathroom closed behind me as I looked at what was laid out on my bed, then spun back around to hammer my knuckles against the bathroom door.

"Sunny? What is this?"

"Oh. I picked out your wardrobe while you were cleaning up. Why?"

"You forgot the underwear!"

Even through the door, I could hear his smile. "No. I didn't."

I looked at the cute blue dress with the strappy back and sighed, tossing the towel over a chair.

~~~

I looked in the mirror.  _ I couldn't have worn this before, _ I thought as my eyes swept over my curves.  _ But  _ damn _ if I can't pull it off now. _

_ Or Sunny can pull it off _ , a little slutty voice said inside me, and I shivered.

~~~

I heard the bathroom door open while I was on the computer looking at Google Maps.

"Hey," I said without looking over. "Maps says it's like a two-hour drive, three if we avoid highways."

"Jess..." I looked over my shoulder to see him looking at my bed— well, what was  _ on _ my bed. "...what's this?"

"Oh!" I grinned wickedly at him. "I picked out your wardrobe while you were cleaning up. I think you're about the same size I used to be?"

He held up a button-up shirt emblazoned with chartreuse parrots. "But I have very different taste."

"It's a Hawaiian shirt and cargo shorts. That's, like, the epitome of 'harmless dude'."

"Not to everyone's retinas."

I stuck my tongue out at him. 

"You realize these are going to stick out." He points at his horns. "Literally as well as figuratively."

"Oh. Look under the shorts." He dug out a green knit cap, turning it over in his hands.

"This doesn't match my shirt."

"Sweetie, nothing matches your shirt. That's why I bought it in the first place."

He huffed, and I had to hide my smile by turning back to the computer to double-check my mapping work.

~~~

"So, how's it look?"

I turned back to take a look—

Oh, fucking  _ yum _ .

He'd settled for shrugging on the shirt without buttoning it, leaving planes of smooth tanned skin available to easy access; the pants were a little on the loose side, but still tight enough to highlight a certain bulge.

He'd barely gotten dressed, and I wanted to rip everything off him and drag him back to bed.

_ Godsdamnit _ . I smiled weakly and flashed him an 'OK' sign with one hand.

"You have directions?"

I nodded.

"Good." He waved at me. "C'mon, up. I want to see how you look."

_ How the _ hell _ do I blush this fast? _ I thought as I got to my feet, turning in a slow circle under his gaze.

He grinned and crooked a finger, and I came over to him, aware of his eyes and how they lingered.

"Show me."

I frowned. "I'm not-"

_ "Show me. _ "

My hands dropped to the hem of my dress, and I slowly began to lift it. I couldn't meet his eyes, which meant I was staring right at his pleased smile as he saw my pussy, tufted with little wisps of pubic hair.

_ "Good _ girl," he murmured, and I closed my eyes from the rush of heat that came with the words.

I expected him to look, but not to touch; his hand pressing between my legs, against my lips made me breathe in sharply, then let it out in a shaky sigh as a finger slid into me and began to work in and out.

His arm wrapped around me just as my legs started to shake, pulling against his bare chest.

"It's going to be a few hours," he murmured to me. "I want a quick snack before we start."

_ "Sir, _ " I whispered, my voice husky as my mound pressed against his palm.

"Shh." I closed my eyes, leaning into him as he teased my cunt to near-sopping, then pulled his hand away to lick his fingers.

"Good girl. We're going to go now."

He pressed his lips to mine, and I sighed at the clear-burning taste of his kiss as we headed for the door.


	5. The Worst Things Come From Inside Here

Sunny opened my apartment door and _reeled_ , staggering back against me and going down on one knee as he started to retch.

I grabbed at him, barely keeping him from cracking his head on the doorframe. " _Sunny!_ "

"'m _fine_ ," he rasped, one hand finding my shoulder and using it as a handhold to lever himself up. " _Go_."

I started to object as he _pushed_ me, using his weight to force me out the door, my legs straining to carry his weight and mine.

"Car's... go left." The words came out as grunts as he climbed me like a drowning man, using me as a crutch as we staggered out from the walkway to the street.

We thudded into the side of my car, a gold Saturn with two doors and (thankfully) no alarm system to set off as the car rocked on its suspension.

And unfortunately, no remote unlock. I swore under my breath and ran around to the driver's side to unlock both doors.

"Sunny! Door's open, _get in._ "

He stared at me with coal-black eyes, with none of the fire I'd seen earlier.

 _Sunglasses,_ I thought belatedly. _Should've had him wear sunglasses_.

He found the door handle, opened it and collapsed into the passenger seat; I went to open the driver's side door, hesitated as a thought struck me.

" _Fuck._ "

I ran back to the apartment, shoved my keys in the lock and _turned_ , pulled the keys back out, checked the door to make sure it was locked, looked back at the car—

 _Fuuuuuuuck_.

Run back to the car, close Sunny's door, get in the driver's side, door, seatbelt, ignition—

I looked over at Sunny and time froze.

He looked _terrible_. Dark circles under his eyes, his skin dull and papery, lips chapped white. I inhaled, and I didn't smell oranges.

"Sunny? _Sunny?_ " I didn't wait for him to answer as I pulled out of my parking spot.

 _The smell of sex blocks out the bad stuff_ , I thought. _And my car doesn't exactly smell of sex._

_Yet._

"...Jess." His voice was rough, tired. 

I pulled into a deserted alley half a block down the street, checked mirrors, looked over at Sunny as he lay slumped in his seat. He smiled weakly, watching me with those coal-black eyes. I smiled back, wishing it was more than the tremulous thing I managed.

"Need you."

I nodded, my hand finding his, fingertips brushing over rough skin. 

"Need you, too," I whispered, taking his hand and bringing it up to my lips for a kiss as I lifted the hem of my dress, placing his hand between my legs and pressing my fingers down atop his.

There was nothing, besides the cool feel of his skin against mine.

 _Gods_ damnit, I thought, pressing my hips into his hand and starting to rock.

"Sir..." It was a husky, breathy word as I ground against his fingers, trying to be needy, trying to be horny, trying to be _his_.

His fingers twitched and _I_ twitched, gasping as I closed my eyes.

I'd never really considered myself an exhibitionist, but there was something about the context here, knowing that he _needed_ me like this, that made my breath hitch.

" _Sir..._ " I pressed myself back in the driver's seat, opening my legs just a little further. Breath hissed in my teeth as he took up my invitation, one of his fingers finding my cunt and trailing up and down.

"That's..." I hesitated, then relaxed and let my mouth run. "That's yours, sir. I'm yours, I'm _all_ yours—"

His finger curls, pushing into me as he growls, a throaty noise that gets me to open my eyes and stare into his, watching sparks dance in that sheer darkness.

He pulls himself out of his seat, leaning over the center console, and then his lips are pressed to mine. Less a kiss, more a harsh collision of mouths; I can taste orange, sweet and syrupy with an aftertaste of heat.

I can't breathe as my body _lights up_ , feeling the weight of him pinning me in my seat as he slides a finger in my cunt; a dam breaks and I moan into his mouth, forgetting everything around us as my back arches and my pussy flexes around his finger.

And then he pulls away, leaving me limp in the driver's seat to catch my breath. He winces as he licks his finger— he's split his lip, a bead of orange-red forming there before the cut vanishes like magic.

"Your blood tastes like creamsicles," I murmur, eyes half-closed. "Orange and cream and hot spice."

His fingers find my cunt again and I groan as two slip into me and withdraw, sheened with wet as he sucks them clean.

"You want to be a vampire?" he suggests with a slight smile, and I slowly shake my head.

"Too sweet."

He leans in and kisses me as his fingers find my cunt again; I nip at his bottom lip and he pulls away again to lick that new coat of moisture from his fingers.

"Sweet like you," he murmurs, tongue lapping at his fingers until they're coated with saliva and sliding them back into me.

" _Fuck,_ " I whisper, feeling my pussy clench and relax. I suck in a breath, smelling musk and oranges and sex and _want_ . "Gods _fuck_ I need to ride your mouth."

"Mmm. Promises." His fingers pull free of me and I sag against the backrest of my seat, breathing in his scent as he shifts position to get back in his seat.

He strokes my hair, pulling a strand off my forehead and tucking it behind my ear; I lean into his hand and breathe out a long sigh as his fingertips gently massage my scalp.

Headscritches _fuck_ yes.

"Are you going to be okay to drive?"

I wheeze a soft laugh. "If you promise not to do that on the road, yeah."

He grins that roguish grin. "Anything for my little adrenaline junkie."

I can't help but smile and nuzzle his hand. _Gods_ being turned on like this feels good. I reach over to turn on the AC on, shivering as cool air starts to blow over my sticky thighs.

"Okay." I get out my phone, plug in the charger cable and boot Maps before dropping it in the cradle. "Next stop, Pacific Ocean."

~~~

  


We hit the freeway maybe twenty minutes later; I locked in cruise control while Trent Reznor sang about the sick and the pure atop a sugary pop-dance theme.

"Okay. About two hours 'till great big sea time." I smiled, pausing as a thought struck me. "Hey, uh, question."

"For you, always an answer."

"What did you mean by 'adrenaline junkie' earlier?"

"Well." He hesitates. "Before I was... like this," he says, gesturing at himself with a hand.

I grin, looking over at him for a second before forcing my gaze back to the road. "Thewed? Delicious? Well-endowed?"

"I was thinking _corporeal_ , but yes to all the above." He hesitates again. "Before that, I was... in your head, I guess?"

"What, like, imaginary-friend style?"

I can hear him smile. "With benefits."

" _I've_ been in my head. What did you find in there that was so good?"

"You, for one."

I can feel the heat building in my cheeks. Gods, why do his compliments have to feel _so good?_

"But... yeah, I got ride-along privileges. At least, to all the stuff you thought was sexy. You know. Being all toppy. The tongue thing."

I spare him a skeptical glance. "You realize that my first masturbatory experience involved a copy of _The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy_."

He laughs, full and honest. "Yeah, I saw a _lot_."

"So... wait." I stare at the horizon, racking my mind for correlations, clues, trying to connect the dots. "How does this mean I'm an adrenaline junkie?"

Sunny's quiet, and when I look over at him, he's sitting there, smug as a kitten in a box that's just the right size. He's grinning, sly and wicked and cunning. 

"Country Road 45, northbound, eighty-two miles per hour."

Fuck. _Fuck_.

"Eyes on the road, sweetie."

I force my eyes off him and back on the road, the heat of a blush working full and proud across my face. "That was _one time._ "

"And the time you did half a bootlegger turn in the middle of the interstate?"

"I-I-"

"In a maid uniform?"

My hands squeeze the steering wheel. I breathe in. Hold. Let it out.

"That... was complicated." I shoot a glance at him. "But then, you know that, mister ride-along."

His smile's... wistful? Sure, a slightly wistful, slightly-goofy grin that already has my shoulders relaxing and my hands easing up on the steering wheel.

"Yeah. You're cute when you get all frustrated, though."

"So, uh." I grope for something to say that isn't _well, how about I pull over and you push some of my buttons_. "How long were you in my head for?"

 

He hums as he stares out at the upcoming road, lost in thought.

"Sun~ny?" I sing-song his name and grin when he gives me an irritated look.

"It's _not my fault_. You need to look at more calendars when you're thinking dirty thoughts."

I wrinkle my nose. "Ha. You've been in my head. You know there's no room for a punctuality fetish in there."

"No, but it ties in _excellently_ with your deep-running desire to be bossed around." He stretches in his seat, muscles straining through the fabric of his shirt and shorts _and I am definitely keeping my eyes on the road holy shit_. "I think putting you on a schedule could be... quite constructive."

"You know, there's more to life than being sexy and bossing me around," is all I can manage in the way of a retort.

He snorts, smiling to himself. "Not after I'm done with you."

It's all in how he says it, definitive and final and conclusive and it makes something in me _clench_ , thighs trembling as I let out a sound that's halfway between a whimper and a squeak.

Warm fingers find the nape of my neck, kneading and gently squeezing. "Breathe."

Air rushes out of me in a shuddering sigh, and I suck in another breath, leaning back into his touch. "If... if you keep saying things like that, I'm not going to be able to drive."

He growls, the sound low and animal as it prickles the pack of my neck and makes my stomach tense with that unrelenting need. "Maybe _I_ should drive, then."

It takes me a mile to find my voice. "You learned how to drive by watching me and my extremely horny poor life choices. No."

He's. He's pouting? He's _pouting_ . He's pouting _and it's cute. Gods save me from a man with puppy eyes who knows how to use them._

"Hey, we've still got about two hours before we hit the shoreline. It..." He meets my gaze with his, coalfire-stoked orange warmth all I can focus on before I pull myself back to watching the road.

"Um. It might be a good idea for you to... take a nap, I guess?"

"Take. A nap." His voice uncurls around me in avid interest.

"Y-yeah, Um. Being outside kinda wrecked you, and for all we know, that'll be the same wherever we go?"

Even without looking over, I can feel his gaze lingering on me and _gods_ I'm biting my lip at the thought of him undressing me with his eyes and his hands on my body, warm palms cupping the hard peaks-

"Jess?"

"Um!" I grip the steering wheel, trying to focus on the road. "Yeah?"

"I said that that's a very good idea, Jess."

"Oh. G-goo-"

His fingers press up against the nape of my neck, fingertips gently massaging along my hairline. "Such a good girl for me," he muses in a soft voice.

Thank _fuck_ we're on a straightaway, because I'm not down for the fine motor control with all this going on. 

" _Sir-_ " The word comes out as a breathy squeak, voice failing entirely as his fingers explore up along my scalp.

"Mmm?" Even without looking over I can tell he's leaning over in his seat, mouth so close to my ear-

"SirIneedto _drive_ ," I manage in a single lungful of air, sounding desperate and needy and, and, and-

-and his hand's pulling away from my neck and _I don't want him to stop_ -

"That is... an excellent point," he manages. He wants me, _needs_ me, and even though he's trying to hide it, I can _smell_ it in the musk of sweet and biting citrus that's diffusing off of him.

"K-okay." I stare at the road, trying to focus. Trying to breathe. Trying not to think about pulling over and bending over the hood of the car for him and-

"You're doing good. This is good." His voice breaks through the haze in my head.

I breathe in. "This is good."

"This is good," he echoes.

I breathe out. "Okay. I need to drive, and you need to take care of yourself."

"Which means naptime."

When I glance over he's smiling slightly. I grin and look back at the road.

"And a juicebox, if you're good."

" _Oh?_ " I glance over and he's looking at me with dark, hungry interest, and I smile weakly.

"Yeah, just, uh... gimme a sec."

Road up ahead's still straight, so all I have to do is hold the wheel steady and wiggle up the hem of my dress-

Gods, I'm _wet_ . We haven't even been really _fooling around_ and I've left a fucking _stain_ on the car seat but all of that's in the background because I'm feeling _me_ all warm and liquid and slicking my fingers like the best lube I've ever owned, but no lube smells like me, thick in my nose as I inhale that scent-

There's a hand on my wrist, fingers firmly pulling my hand from between my legs and drawing it over to where Sunny's sitting. I look over and he's sitting there with his eyes closed, inhaling the scent that's coming off my skin.

"Juicebox," he murmurs, and I squirm at the sound of the word, and then I squirm some more as warm lips find my skin and his tongue starts to lick my hand clean, slow and methodical and getting every. last. drop.

I didn't realize _needing_ could hurt like this. _Fuck._ Fuck. _Maybe if I use my thighs to brace the wheel and reach down-_

"Hand on the wheel."

 _-shit._ I put my hand back on the steering wheel.

He didn't let go of my wrist until my hand was back on the wheel, and then he sat back in his seat with a contented sigh.

"I'll admit a nap does sound... refreshing."

I swallowed, squeezing the steering wheel. "You sound like a cat." 

"I believe the phrase is 'no, u'."

A bark of unexpected laughter explodes out of me; I glance over and he's smiling as he watches me with those burning eyes.

Naturally, I stick my tongue out at him. "Go sleep, memelord."

He sniffs and closes eyes, shifting in his seat until he finds a comfortable position.

I smile and look back to the road, and reach over to turn down the volume and swipe the phone to play something a little more soothing.

Larkin Dodgen starts singing with a voice like russet smoke, and I join her after a few lines.

_"I hold you close_

_And wait for the sun_

_But today the sun don't shine for no one."_

~~~

  


_"Can angels sing with tied-up wings_

_Like we do through the night?"_

I couldn't help but grin as I sang along with Judy Edelman in three-part harmony, my voice simultaneously weaving above and below hers  in a way that was impossible for any human voice.

 _This is the shape my soul takes._ I smiled to myself, and glanced over at Sunny; the rest was definitely doing him some good.

_Operation Lullaby: success._

I turned down the music a little further, just loud enough so I could hum along, and looked back over at Sunny.

 _He's cute when he's sleeping_.

A pang of guilt hit, and I quickly looked back to the road.

_He thinks I'm going with him._

And I hadn't said I _wasn't_ . I just hadn't _decided_ yet.

 _Because you want him to make the decision for you,_ part of me said.

No. It was more complicated than that, wasn't it? I still had ties here, I still had friends. _I have a family I've chosen_.

**_It isn't too late to fix this._ **

And it wasn't, was it? Just... talk to Sunny after he wakes up, explain things, _talk_ with him about it-

**_There's always another answer._ **

I just have to tell him that I can't go with him, that he needs to go on without me- I have _friends_ here, if I go with him like this they'll think I _died_ , who does that to their fri-

**_You can't come back from this._ **

Could I? I didn't know. Sunny probably didn't know. We could leave and I'd _never come back_ and they'd think I was _dead_.

Part of me realized I was shaking, white-knuckling the steering wheel.

**_You can't run from your life._ **

_I'm sorry,_ I thought. _I'll get you to the sea._

Something settled in me, a sick, satisfied certainty.

 **_You can't run from your_ ** **mind.**


	6. We'll Never Be Together Again

I wake up knowing something's wrong _. _ Something in the air, something  _ about _ the air; it feels like something cold and long dead, pressing against my mouth and nose, threatening to come crawling down my throat.

I look over at Jess and something's wrong with  _ her _ . She's hunched over, knuckles white around the steering wheel, her body trembles with strain like she's under some impossible load and she mouths words under her breath-

There's something  _ wrong _ with her head, a squirming, shifting moire illusion that almost-seamlessly edits away patches of my vision when I look at her full-on.

I squint. Feel the strain as I _ push _ in my head and something gives-

It's. It's  _ wrong. _ Translucent, colorless and somehow colored in greyscale oilslick, writhing like a bucket of worms.

And it's plugged into her head, loops and tendrils swaying as they pass through her hair and flesh like she's made of fog.

"Jess.  _ Jess _ ."

She doesn't hear me, like she's focused on the task of driving to the exclusion of all else. I lean in a little and catch some of what she's saying to herself. " _...haven't, just haven't found it yet, haven't _ ..."

I reach over, put my hand on her shoulder and she  _ flinches _ , car swerving as she snaps her head around to look at me, cheeks streaked with tears, eyes wide with panic as she stares right through me, eyes unfocused for a split-second before she looks right into my eyes.

"Sunny..." she says, almost whispering to herself. Her eyes fill with fresh tears and she tries to blink them away, forcing her head back around to look at the road in front of us. "I'm  _ sorry- _ "

I give her shoulder a squeeze in an attempt to comfort her. "Jess,  _ what's wrong? _ "

"I can't-" she manages before her throat tightens and her face contorts with pain. "Can't go with you." She sniffles, sounding hurt, tired. Overwhelmed.

She sounds almost  _ broken _ , and I realize I've never heard her like this before, and I never want to hear her like this again.

I reach out to one of the tentacle-things coming out of her head; it responds to my touch, whipping around and wrapping itself around my fingers with a grip that stings like a fresh cut on my skin.

Her shoulders hunch, words spooling from her lips."There's-  _ the weak never changes _ \- to the sea, just get him to the sea-"

_ It's making her do this. Making her _ leave  _ me _ .

I watch as the thing extends out of her head, winding around my fingers and starting to smear the red-orange of my blood over its oil-slick surface.

And then I  _ grab _ , curling my fingers around it, heedless of the pain.

_ You don't get to do this to her. You don't get to  _ hurt _ her. She's  _ mine.

And I  _ pull _ -

She screams, one of those hollow cries that comes from down in the gut and feels like a knife in my heart-

And then I have my own problem to deal with as the  _ thing _ turns on me, tentacles that feel like they're covered in thousands of razors chewing at my skin as they grab my wrist and snake up my arm-

At first I try to pull free, break its grip so it's not chewing me up; then I realize that if it's dealing with  _ me _ , that's less it can do to  _ her _ .

So I let it take hold of me, tighten my grip and I  _ pull _ .

It unspools out of her in a chain of silk scarves, a magician's trick made manifest in writhing tentacles; there's no way I can get it all out without being overwhelmed and chewed to pieces.

And it's- I can  _ hear _ it now, hissing words that feel like they're pressing in on my ears, inaudible but still perfectly understandable:

COWARDS A COWARDS WAY OUT

Reaches a hand into that mass of squirming thing I've pulled out of her, grab,  _ squeeze _ and feel something give-

NEVER CHANGE YOUR LIFE YOUR MIND YOUR LIFE YOUR LIFE YOUR LIFE YOUR-

Something small and fast worms its way through my fingers and races up my arm  towards my eyes. I try to get a grip on it with blood-slick hands, pull it off and get it  _ away _ ; it squirts out of my hands onto the dash, orients itself and starts to jump at me-

ANOTHER ANSWER ANSWER ANSWER AND YOU DO IT

I slam the heel of my hand into it, feels the flesh cutting into his hand jerk and still as I crush it against the dash-

And  _ it can die _ , that means something as I turn back to the main mass that's already pulling itself back into her head and say a silent apology before I grab and pull again and she cries out in pain-

~~~

_ Bump-bump, bump-bump, bump- _

I can't see out of one eye and it sounds like the car is breaking down and it feels like I've gone ten rounds with a belt-sander.

But it's dead. Pulled it to pieces and crushed it and tore it until that damned voice  _ shut up _ .

Huh. Missing a finger.  _ If I were human I'd be in shock right now _ .

_ Jess.  _ I look over at her, and she's practically unconscious; forehead braced on the steering wheel, mumbling words to herself in a near-breathless whisper that puts me in mind of the thing I'd ripped out of her head.

That rhythmic thumping is the car's tires bounding off the lane-divider markers - she's steering by touch, driving blind.

"Jess."

She doesn't respond, even when I reach over and touch her shoulder with blood-smeared fingers.

I look down at the gearshift, push it into neutral and grab the steering wheel, twisting it to one side despite her feeble struggle to keep us on the road, hearing the scratch and grind of gravel as we pull onto the side of the road and slow to a stop.

I open the car door cautiously, but the smell that had hit me like a physical force is lessened; either it's not as bad this far out, or I've started developing a resistance to it.

I come around the car, open her door and undo her seatbelt, gathering her into my raw-skinned arms.

She's still whispering. "... _ always another answer and you haven't found it when you're done _ ..."

I carry her back to the passenger side and buckle her in. Rest my forehead against hers for a moment.

"It'll be okay," I whisper. "Promise."

I get back in the car, shift back into drive and pull onto the road, trying not to think how ten-and two and checking mirrors comes so naturally even though I've never driven a car before.

"Jess?" I glance over to her, see she's awake - or at least her eyes are open. "Jess, talk to me."

Her voice is a dead-dry whispery monotone that brings up the hairs on the back of my neck. "- _ isn't too late to fix your mind isn't too late isn't too late isn't too late _ -" 

She cuts herself off, shuddering. "It- it hurts less if I say the words-" She stops to pull in a ragged breath. "I'm  _ sorry _ ."

"It's okay. It'll be okay. Only a few more miles to the sea."

I try to focus on driving.

~~~

I didn't stop at the empty parking lot, letting the tires roll over scrub and dunes and sand until surf lapped at the bumper and all I could see from the windshield were grey breakers and whitecaps. 

"We're here."

Jess is slumped in her seat, eyes closed, face pinched with pain even as her mouth moves. She's been mostly silent for the drive aside from the moments where she raises her voice for a jumbled word or phrase.

I reach over, put a blood-smeared hand on her shoulder. She breathes out in a shaky rush of air.

"Sunny?" She doesn't open her eyes.

"It's me."

She's crying again. "I can't- I can't-" She cuts herself off, shaking her head as the words bubble to the surface and she's lost in them again. "- _ when you're done you can't come back _ -"

_ No. _

I unbuckle her seat belt, pulling her out of the car and carrying her into the surf-

A wave s(p)lashes up onto my chewed-up hands, and it's the worst pain I've ever felt, millions of needles pinning each and every fragment of raw flesh to my bones and piercing through to the marrow.

It doesn't go away. It doesn't fade, it's just something to  _ endure _ as I wade, and then start to swim as the water gets deeper, towing Jess behind me in a rough lifeguard's hold.

Something inside me speaks without voice, instinct. 

_ Here _ .

"Jess!" No way to tell if she can hear me. "Hold your breath!"

I gave it a count of six then  _ dive _ , saltwater stinging my eyes, kicking hard to pull Jess along with me as we descend into a dull-green forest of underwater plants.

Trying to keep track of time as I feel leathery leaves brush over my skin, still swimming, still searching for  _ something- _

Kelp strands tangle around an ankle and I have to stop, try and tear them one-handed, pulling and kicking until I'm free. 

_ This isn't working _ . Whatever had been guiding me was gone; I'm lost, disoriented in a forest of grey-green shadows, and Jess needs to breathe.

So I start to kick again, feeling fatigue start to weigh on my limbs as we head for the surface.

We breach the water, and I shake my head to clear hair and saltwater from my eyes before I look at Jess.

She's still. Limp and unresisting in my arms.

_ No _

I strike out for what might be shore, towing Jess behind me.

I pull her up through the surf to dry sand.

She doesn't move.

She doesn't breathe.

_ No. _

_ There has to be something I can do. _ I stare down at my bloody hands.

_ She's tasted me. My kiss, my cum. My blood. _ And it was almost always the same; feeling the rush of her need, watching her body take the shape of her soul.

I stare down at my torn-up hands, arms. Blood and saltwater and stinging fire in my flesh.

_ It's not like I have any better options. _

I use my hands to collect the blood welling up from my torn flesh, funneling it into her parted lips.

I watch. I wait.

I'm holding her hand and I don't remember taking it.

"You made me the way I am," I tell her. "Everything you love, it's here, inside me."

My eyes sting and I close them, feeling tears on my cheeks.

"Please," I whisper. "I don't know what to do without you."

She spasms, gasps for air, and opens eyes as black as mine, green fire sparking in the dark.

_ Alive. She's alive _ .

I close my eyes and let in the welcoming dark.


End file.
